An invitation from Seto Kaiba
by Dillian and Winja
Summary: One fateful day, Seto Kaiba sees himself forced into a date with his greatest nemesis, the King of Games. But what do they have in common, besides their rivalry on the dueling field? Can anything good come of this?
1. The Invitation

Title: An invitation from Seto Kaiba  
>Characters: Seto Kaiba x Yami no Yuugi (Prideshipping)<br>Rating: NC-17  
>Summary: One fateful day, Seto Kaiba sees himself forced into a date with his greatest nemesis, the King of Games. And not just any date, but a boring, reluctant, annoying one with one of the preachiest guys he has ever known. What good can come of this?<br>Author's notes: This story takes place after the series' end, all characters are of consenting age and Yami has his own body just because we like it that way. Concrit and comments are appreciated!

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

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><p>The place was one he hadn't seen since he'd visited three years earlier, to look at the proprietor's rare card collection. Looking around now, Seto noted that it hadn't changed much. The aisles were still small and crowded, the merchandise was still dusty, the proprietor, Mutou Sugoroku, was still small, and fussy-looking, and old. He didn't look much affected by his trip through Death T, Seto thought, but if he felt anything such as guilt, or relief, instead of just indifference at the thought, he couldn't have said. Mostly all he thought about him, was that it was a nuisance to have to come through his Game Shop in order to get to his real objective, which was in the apartment upstairs.<p>

"Hello, hello," came Mutou's voice as soon as the pinging of the door announced his arrival. "Can I show you anything today?" Seto didn't answer. He didn't even slow down his pace, as he walked straight past the old man, and on through his shop to the staircase at the back. "You'll be coming to see my grandson, I guess," Mutou called after him, but Seto still didn't pause to answer.

It amused him, in a wry way, how wrong the old man was. It was a joke on both of them, really. Mutou thought he was here to visit Yuugi, whom he hadn't spared a thought for in the two years since he'd left Domino High. But did his real objective make any more sense? He was here to see Mutou Yami of all people, who had started out as Yuugi's duelist aspect, and somehow taken on a full life of his own. What was the point of that? What could he possibly have to gain by doing it? Well, he knew what he had to gain (or rather, what he stood to lose if he didn't do it), and with a big gold box tucked under his arm, he went straight up to the top floor. Footsteps echoing a sharp crack, crack, crack despite the carpeting, he strode down the hallway, and, at the end of it, he knocked on the Mutous' apartment door.

* * *

><p>This was no life for a former Pharaoh. Doing the dishes, operating a vacuum cleaner, folding his own bed linens and clothes, that was work for a slave, a servant, not for Mutou Yami, King of Games, champion and savior of the world. Yami heaved a sigh, telling himself he shouldn't be complaining, should he? After having lost the Ceremonial Battle, he'd been granted his own body. He'd been ready to live the life that had been denied to him so long, having died young in the first place, and after that, dwelling as a Spirit for three millennia. But when the first euphoria of being in his own body had been over, Yami had found that life was actually quite boring. Without any tournaments at stake, he was 'condemned' to help out at home, as without any identification or birth certificate; he couldn't enroll in a school or find himself a job.<p>

Now as he folded his laundry, Yami was annoyed. And, to make matters worse, someone was knocking on the door. Great, now he was reduced to a servant even more, as he had to answer the door. "Coming," he hollered and he dumped the dirty laundry to the side. In any case, the visitor was going to get him some distraction from a boring day at home, something to help fill the long, lonely hours, before Yuugi came home. Yami went to the door and reached for the handle, thinking it was probably a salesman, or the mailman delivering a package. He was prepared for anything, but not for Kaiba Seto standing in the doorway. His mouth fell open.

"Kaiba?" he asked, dumbfounded.

* * *

><p>Yami was wearing an apron, that was the first thing Seto noticed. It was a little girl-y looking on him, what with his lack of height, and the cute way his blond bangs framed his face. He also had a smudge of dirt across his nose, and a rather disgruntled look on his face (although that gave way to a look of surprise, when he saw Seto at the door). "Yami."<p>

Yuugi's Other came to just below his chin, he estimated, although it was hard to tell what with his hair, and with the fact that he was looking up at Seto right now, with the surprise changing slowly to suspicion, on his face. Seto met his gaze full-on. Before he could lose his nerve, he thrust the box he'd been carrying, toward Yami, rather as he might have handed him a duel disc before a competition. The chocolates inside the box rattled a little as he presented it, and the red bow bobbed. "These are for you," he said flatly.

"I want you to go out to dinner with me," he said. "What will it take to make you agree?"

"Wh-what?" Yami's annoyance went from surprise, to suspicion, to utmost disbelief in just a few seconds. The biggest shock of all had been to find Kaiba Seto on his doorstep, and the very same Kaiba Seto gave him a gift (he didn't know there were chocolates inside the box, but any gift from Kaiba was like signing your own death warrant) and asked, no, demanded him to go out on a date?

"You're crazy," was the first thing to come out of his mouth. Automatically he took a step to the side (Yuugi's mother had told him not to leave guests standing out in the hallway), his mind busy processing what was going on. Then suspicion took over.

"On a date with you," Yami parroted. "What will it take me to agree? You're out of your mind, Kaiba. Why would you want to go on a date with _me_?" It was too preposterous for words. Seto hated him, didn't he? Two bitter rivals, and suddenly he wanted to go on a date with him? Something was wrong here. Was it some kind of a prank? "You're not being very funny."

"Believe me Yami, I am not being funny." Taking advantage as Yami stepped aside from the door, Seto walked into the little apartment and looked around. It was kind of crowded, a little fussy-looking, much cleaner than the Game Shop downstairs, but still with an air about it that wasn't quite poverty, but came way closer than anything Seto was used to. As for Yami, even wearing an apron, he stood out like a sore thumb. He looked like the champion he was, not the kind of humble low-life that would fit in, in a poverty-stricken background like this.

Seto sat down on the sofa, putting the chocolates on the table in front of him. "I'm dead serious, Yami." It wasn't a lover's voice he used, or even the voice of someone starting a negotiation; if anything, Seto sounded like he was giving his rival a challenge. "I want a date with you," he said, "and I'm not going to take no for an answer. I'll let you choose the date, I'll let you choose the restaurant, I'll let you choose what we do." He folded his arms and looked at Yami, a look that was almost a glare. "I'm not leaving until you agree," he said, "so we'd better get this over with."

* * *

><p>It had to be a prank, no way in hell Kaiba Seto was visiting him and asking... demanding him for a date. And if he really wanted a date, the young CEO certainly didn't show much desire; he glared, he huffed and he puffed, and he sat on the couch as if he owned the place. Yami slowly took of his apron, folded it and put it on a small side table, buying himself some time to think. Seto had never shown any interest in him. More so, he'd never any interest in anyone, ever, no way. The tabloids loved to link him to actresses, starlets and singers, but Yami, knowing him, knew, they were making it all up.<p>

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, a hint of curiosity taking over from his suspicion. "You don't really strike me as really wanting to go on a date. But if you're not leaving until I agree, and if you can prove to me you're being serious about this..." Well, it was pretty predictable, wasn't it? Yami crossed his arms in front of his chest and puffed himself up. "... if you are really serious, you give me your Blue Eyes. Right now."

* * *

><p>His Blue-Eyes. Seto had to laugh at that. His rival had no way of knowing how appropriate that demand was in the current situation; he had no way of knowing the dire situation that had forced him to come here, and that was going to render all of his beloved Dragons meaningless, unless he emerged from this negotiation successful. "<em>One<em>Blue-Eyes," he said. That was the joke part, was the number: Right now there were three extant Blue-Eyes White Dragon cards in the world, and he owned all three. But a threat hung over the head of this rarest of card now, a threat by the name of Pegasus J. Crawford.

Creator of Duel Monsters, head of the card company known as Industrial Illusions and, sadly, owner of the rights to the Blue-Eyes White Dragon, Pegasus was insane. He'd always been insane, since before Seto had met him (shaming a low-level duelist named Bandit Keith Howard with some kind of pseudo-magical trickery), and whether he was rescuing his brother's soul from him, or just negotiating to get the rights to use Duel Monsters images in his VR games at a fair price, Seto didn't trust him any further than he could throw him. It was he who'd summoned him to his office a week earlier, and it was he who'd made the threat that had brought Seto here.

"It's quite simple, Kaiba-boi." His voice put Seto's teeth on edge. - Even his smell (expensive shampoo, and a faint scent that could only be described as _money_) made him want to throw him across the room. - Pegasus looked smugly at him now from behind the big expensive desk in his office, and he gave him the ultimatum: "I want you to take Mutou Yami out on a date. And you are going to do it, Kaiba-boi. I have the perfect weapon to hold over your head to make you obey me."

"I've had the factory make 10,000,000 Blue-Eyes White Dragon cards. - Yes, that's right," he said, as Seto opened his mouth to speak. "Enough that if they're released, the Blue-Eyes will become a drug on the market. Your beloved rare card will be commoner than a Kuriboh." He smiled. "You see where I'm going with this, Kaiba?"

"You'll release the cards if I don't go out with Yuugi," Seto said flatly. He gave Pegasus a look that should have incinerated him on the spot. "You bastard," he said. "You devious, conniving, manipulative bastard. What the hell business is it of yours if I go out with Yuugi?"

"Yami," Pegasus said.

"What?"

"I want you to go out with Yami," he said. "Yuugi is his Other Self. Yami's the one that does the dueling," Pegasus said, "the good one, the one that beat me on Duelist Kingdom. And don't make some kind of snarky comment about how anyone could have done that," he put in again, as Seto opened his mouth to say (well, exactly that, as it happened). "I didn't notice you being able to do it, Kaiba-boi. Yami's the interesting one, I imagine you'd find little Yuugi rather boring. And besides," he added with a smile, "it's always so cute when rivals date each other, isn't it?"

"You want me to date Yami because it would be cute," Seto said, trying to get through to the crazy American one last time.

And Pegasus' response was echoing in his head now, as he responded to Yami's own demand: "_I want you to date Yami because otherwise I'm going to flood the market with Blue-Eyes White Dragons._"

"I think I can manage your request," he told Yami. "One Blue-Eyes?" He took his deck out of his pocket and shuffled through it. The three Blue-Eyes were grouped together, almost as if they knew there was a threat to one of them, and were trying to protect each other. But Seto knew the real threat wasn't here. And besides, he could always take one single Blue-Eyes from Pegasus' flood of them, before making sure the rest were destroyed. He handed the card to Yami.

"Now, about that date?" he said.

* * *

><p>Yami's eyes went wide as Seto handed the card over to him. Just like that. No whining, no yammering, no shouting. The man, who would murder and kill for just another Blue Eyes, had just handed one of his cards over to him as if it was nothing. Completely flabbergasted, he took the card and stared at it. His arch enemy, his nemesis, the Blue Eyes White Dragon had made a lot of his duels difficult and struggling. It was Seto's signature card, he knew how much it meant to the young CEO. And still... he just gave it to him. Yami didn't know what to say. <em>If I had known he would do this, without skipping a beat, I should've asked for his mansion. <em>"I..." he started. "You're just giving me this? Without dueling me for it? What has gotten into you?" Yami held the card, staring at it, still disbelieving. It had to be a prank, or else Seto had to be insane, or possessed. There was no way he would give up one of his beloved Blue Eyes. Yami would fight to the teeth to keep his Dark Magician, and he certainly wouldn't give it up for a date.

Still, Seto had kept his word, and despite everything, as a man of honor himself, Yami wanted to keep his word too. He had asked for a Blue Eyes, he had gotten one, and well... that was it.

"All right," Yami said, slowly, as if weighing every word. "One date it is, then. You gave me what I asked for, and I'm not backing out on my word." _But I am going to make this profitable for myself. If you want a date that badly, you're going to have to bleed for it. _His trademark grin returned. "You're going to take me out to Kiyoshi," he said, naming the most expensive and exclusive restaurant of all Domino. "And then you'll take me to the kabuki theatre. Front row seats, of course."

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><p><em>His <em>Blue-Eyes. Yami transferred it into his pocket with barely a look, and Seto watched it go. He knew where he'd gotten that card, and when, and in what circumstances. Some replica card straight out of Pegasus' factory was going to be a very poor replacement, and it took all his willpower to hide his regret. But he wasn't a child, he understood about priorities, and sacrificing one Blue-Eyes to save the integrity of all three of them (plus that one extra from the factory, and maybe he could arrange to have the one he'd given Yami destroyed later on, so he'd still own all the Blue-Eyes cards) was a pretty good trade-off.

"...Kiyoshi," Yami was saying, "and then after that I want to watch kabuki. ...Best theatre in town ...front-row seats," he kept prattling on, describing what sounded like the most boring evening in the history of the world, and Seto gave a little sigh, letting himself notice, just for a moment, how _much_he was sacrificing to save his Dragons, before returning to the conversation.

"Kiyoshi," he said, "of course," and then, "and kabuki, certainly Yami, if that's what will please you." It wouldn't please him, - He hated fancy restaurants, and kabuki theatre was just a lot of guys in white makeup making funny poses all over the stage as far as he was concerned. - but this evening wasn't about him, he knew that going in. He was fulfilling an obligation here, and once it was fulfilled he'd never look at Yami's face again (except when it was behind a duel disk on the opposite side of a tournament field). "Is next Tuesday good for you, Yami?" he said. "About seven?"

"That would be just fine," Yami answered. He tilted his head. Seto was still sitting on the sofa, and he agreed with everything, even giving him one of his Blue Eyes as soon as he, Yami, had asked for it. What was going on? Kabuki theatre should be a torture to the CEO, and he was still agreeing. He didn't believe it was a prank anymore, not after Seto giving him the BEWD; no prank in the world could make him hand his card over like that. Yami wasn't stupid. Something else had to be at work. Something so terrible, so gruesome, that it had Kaiba Seto cooperating. What could it possibly be? Mokuba kidnapped? Another whacko with a powerful card claiming to conquer the world?

"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?" he asked, curiously. The BEWD was safely in his pocket, he'd have to store it more carefully later. No doubt Seto was going to duel him for it sooner or later and he hated his cards to wrinkle or be stored in any less than perfect condition. "We've hardly spoken until now, and you suddenly ask me on a date?" He didn't know if Seto was going to tell the truth or not, but his curiosity was going to the roof. "If you're so willing to accommodate me, I should've asked for much, much more." It was mean, but he almost had to grin.

"What this is _about_?" Seto scowled. He should have seen this coming. Yami was smart; it was one of the ways a person could tell him from his Other, Yuugi, who wasn't exactly dumb, but was so eagerly cooperative and friendly, that he might as well have been. "Why does it have to be _about _anything?" he demanded. "Maybe I've wanted to ask you out for a long time. Maybe I've been thinking about you," - Only he hadn't, so he wasn't able to get very much conviction into his voice that way. He revised, trying to sound more plausible. - "...Maybe I get tired of work, work, work all the time, and I want to talk to someone who shares the same interests as I do." That last bit sounded true, because it felt true, or at least it did until Seto remembered that this rival of his, who supposedly _shared his interests_, had just trapped him into an evening of kabuki theatre and fancy-ass French cooking. "It's not like I meet a lot of people my age in the business world," he added, a little more lamely.

_Lame _was a good word for how he felt in general, about this discussion. And whiny, and wangsty; the next thing you knew, he was probably going to be leaning on Yami and burying his face in his shoulder, and how hard would that be, considering he was a head taller than him! How convincing could he possibly be if he acted all out of character like this? But he didn't want to tell Yami about his deal with Pegasus. There was no way he was going to let his rival see him dancing to that American lunatic's tune again for a second time. "You always have to over-analyze everything," he told Yami. "Pick-pick-pick, you're always picking at things. Can't you be content that some things are just the way they seem on the surface for once?"

"I just ...wanted to do something different. I wanted to spend some time with someone my own age, who wasn't Mokuba, for a change. I wanted to talk to someone else, and maybe have some fun. If it's such a problem for you to get used to the fact that I might want your company, then forget it. Just give me my card back and I'll leave, Yami."

* * *

><p>Yami was still standing in the middle of the living room, with Seto in front of him, still processing the CEO's words and trying to.. well, to pick at them, just as Seto 'accused' him of. It was difficult to believe that Seto had been thinking of him in any other way than to get his revenge for all duels lost, but on the other hand, he could understand, at least sort of, Seto's words about work-work-work. It was no secret that he always worked, Yami could imagine that Seto wanted to do something different. Only why he would pick his rival to do that... they <em>were<em>rivals, weren't they? Well, at least on the dueling field. Outside of that, they had no qualms about each other, except each of them thinking the other was a big-ass jerk, maybe. So maybe Seto had thought about him after all, and as working all the time had finally gotten to him, he had turned to him, Yami, for distraction.. for a date. He couldn't exactly blame Seto for barging in and demanding one, could he? Seto had no social skills, but the way he wanted to give Yami everything, even a night at a kabuki theatre, was.. actually kind of cute. Yami started to feel flattered.

"All right," Yami finally said. "I can see you want to do something else but work all the time. You'd work yourself to death if it was possible, it's good that you look outside of it, just like any other young man. You've accomplished so much already, a break would be nice." A break for himself would be nice too; it would mean saying goodbye to dusting and cleaning for a while. But if he had known better about this situation, he would've asked Seto to buy him his own apartment, for crying out loud. The BEWD safe in his pants pocket, he thought about showing it to Yuugi and telling him about Seto and the date. His aibou would probably keel over from shock. "Then next week Tuesday, seven o'clock it is," he showed his trademark smirk, "I accept your challen... ah, your _date,_ Kaiba."


	2. The Restaurant

Title: An invitation from Seto Kaiba

Characters: Seto Kaiba x Yami no Yuugi (Prideshipping)

Rating: (to become) NC-17

Summary: One fateful day, Seto Kaiba sees himself forced into a date with his greatest nemesis, the King of Games. And not just any date, but a boring, reluctant, annoying one with one of the preachiest guys he has ever known. What good can come of this?

Author's notes: This story takes place after the series' end, all characters are of consenting age and Yami has his own body just because we like it that way. Concrit and comments are appreciated!

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

**Thank you dear friends, for the lovely reviews so far. And a special note to SweetRevenge666: Yes, the Chekov's Gun of having Pegasus in there will be resolved. Bless his heart, Pegsy is a supporting character here, and that means he's got to scramble for screen-time.**

Subtle lighting, the subdued clink-clink of silver against expensive china and the so-discrete sound of it being set down again on the cloth of the tabletop, the gentle sound of the servers' voices, and the faint strains of the music that served as a background: Everything was quiet in Kiyoshi, in that discrete, elegant way, that irritated the hell out of Seto, who preferred the rush and clutter of KaibaCorporation, and the peaceful, absolute quiet of his research room, once he'd shut the doors and told the staff he wasn't to be disturbed. This fancy, privileged atmosphere raised his hackles and made him as restless as a cat before a thunder storm. Food was food, right? What was the point with all this elegance?

Well of course he had a good reason to be here, now didn't he? There was something big at stake here, big enough and more so, to be worth sitting for one evening in Kiyoshi, where even the water came in cut crystal, and the napkins were the size of tablecloths. Sitting there with his big piece of snowy linen draped across his knees, sitting there upright and politely quiet, with his hands folded on the tabletop (because what else was he supposed to do with them?), and his feet neatly together in front of him, Seto felt kind of like a table himself. He felt like he wasn't going to have any more fun than the average table, as he went through the motions of scanning the excruciatingly elegant menu he'd been given (which featured elaborate descriptions of dishes that sounded like they'd been thrown together out of all the strangest ingredients the chef could find, opposite prices that would have paid for a small continent, outside in the real world), even though he knew he'd probably just be taking the first special the waiter described for them when he came back.

Yami, on the other side of the table, looked perfectly at ease. He wore a suit (a nice suit, way nicer than Seto would have ever imagined he could afford), and he had a glass in front of him (white wine), and he'd taken a little of the weird, depressing little complementary appetizer they'd been given when the waiter took their drinks orders. Seto, who didn't care for fish foam on tiles of dry toast, had left it strictly alone. And he hadn't drank much of the cup of coffee he'd ordered either. But he didn't come here to have fun, he had an objective in mind, and all he wanted to do was get through the evening and be done with it, as quickly as possible.

"Nice weather we had today," he said, just to make polite conversation. And then, because he couldn't think of anything to add to that, "have you decided what you want? I'll signal the waiter."

* * *

><p>One course at Kiyoshi was as expensive as buying your own apartment, Yami thought, but he didn't feel uncomfortable here, surrounded by all this wealth and luxury, in fact, he was faintly amused the stiff posture of his host, sitting across the table. Yami had done everything to look his best tonight; well, if this was a 'date'; he'd better make most of it, right? He'd asked Yuugi's mother for help, and she'd done great work in altering one of jii-chan's suits into something fitting, and even becoming, he flattered himself in thinking. He looked good tonight, and he knew it with the arrogance of a Pharaoh. Studying the menu though, he had no idea what to order; everything looked so exquisite and excellent to him, that it was hard to decide. He wasn't going to show any insecurity to Kaiba Seto, however. With a controlled gesture, he put the menu down.<p>

"Why don't you decide," he said, folding his hands in front of him. He had noticed that Seto hadn't looked at the menu at all, or touched his little appetizer. "And order some wine for yourself. Relax. No one is going to devour you." It was pretty much preposterous that he had to calm down Seto of all people, but the young CEO really needed to lighten up, otherwise this date was ruined before it had even properly started. Oh well, he was going to get an evening at the kabuki theatre out of it anyway, and he could ignore Seto during the performance if necessary. But now that this was a 'date', it would be nice if the other would relax some, instead of glaring around and sitting up straight like his spinal cord was an unbendable, solid steel rod.

He sipped a little wine. Gods, but this was heavenly. The wine at the Mutou house was just store-bought, thirteen-in-a-dozen cheap stuff, tasting like dish-washing liquid. One sip of this, and he felt like he was in heaven, with nothing but the best at his disposal. He relaxed some more, showing Seto a superior smirk.

* * *

><p>"What can I get for the gentlemen tonight?" the waiter asked, popping up by their table right as Yami said, "<em>why don't you decide for both of us,<em>" to Seto.

"Decide for yourself," Seto snapped. He glared at Yami, feeling irritated out of proportion, by the request. Then, when Yami didn't speak up right away, he transferred his glare to the waiter. "Has this restaurant got anything without fish foam in it? Bring some of that," he said, and held the glare until the man dropped his eyes, and mumbled something about bringing the special for both of the gentlemen.

"And bring me some wine," Seto told him, "some of what he's having," and he jerked his chin toward the glass of white wine at Yami's place. It could have been anything - What did Kaiba Seto know of wine? It wasn't like his stepfather had had him in the dining room all the time, learning social graces and trying all the best vintages. - he wouldn't have known, or cared, but he knew that he wanted something to relax him a little bit or this whole evening was going to suck, and wine would do that, wouldn't it?

The waiter scuttled off. He knew the CEO of KaibaCorporation, they paid flunkies at these fancy places to know those things, and he wasn't going to piss off such an important customer, no matter what he requested. And as he left, almost as if he was speaking to his retreating back instead of to Seto, Yami spoke up: "How's your brother doing?" he asked.

Seto looked at him. "Mokuba's fine," he said. "Why wouldn't he be?" Then with an effort, he reminded himself that he ought to be making small talk, that socializing would make this "date" go more pleasantly and smoothly. "He's in his second year at Domino High now," he said. "He tells me he's got a girlfriend named," - He thought, tried to remember what the girl's name was, when he'd never listened that carefully to Mokuba talking about her. - "...named something," he said. "Chieko or something."

"How's Yuugi?"

* * *

><p>Yami mentally congratulated the younger Kaiba brother, thinking how pleased Yuugi would be by the news. Mokuba had always been so close to Seto, not that there was anything wrong with that, but it was good for him to stand on his own two legs and discover the world. His girlfriend would teach him some of the social interaction skills which Seto so obviously lacked; that waiter was probably going to have nightmares about the glares he'd been giving him.<p>

"So, Mokuba has a girlfriend," he said, sipping his wine again. "That's good. Yuugi is dating Anzu, a pretty obvious development. He's totally smitten with her and kisses the ground she walks upon." As he mentioned her, Yami thought about Anzu for a moment: She'd always been a good friend, but he'd been pretty much blind to the feelings she once harbored towards him, never even aware they were there, until after the girl had moved on. It hadn't been until then that he'd realized how patient Yuugi was either, loving her, unnoticed and unappreciated for so long. His aibou would rather deny his own happiness than to make his friends feel any discomfort, but when Anzu did look his way, he took the opportunity at hand; with results.

For himself, Yami had never given relationships much thought. He loved Yuugi well enough, and thought of him as the other half of his soul, but could he classify that as being _in_ love? Not really, come to think of it. Moreso, he'd never really felt desire for anyone and he chalked that up to still being a stranger to this world, still new to having his own body. He had more than enough time to discover himself and his sexuality. Only one thing was for sure, and that was that his eventual partner had to be strong, and commanding. Not any of this metrosexual crap where inner feelings had to be discussed every night. No, a partner should be strong and authoritative, that was what he liked. …Although Seto's authority here at the restaurant, was so extreme it was almost funny. He was still grumpy of course, with this 'date' going on, and Yami decided to tease him a little.

"You're not really enjoying yourself are you?" he said. "Maybe fancy restaurants and kabuki theaters are common to you, but not to me. A shame really, considering that I used to be a Pharaoh and people would throw themselves at my feet... but I won't bite your head off, Seto-kun. Try to relax a little."

* * *

><p>The waiter returned to their table and set a glass at Seto's place, a glass of something clear-ish, and yellow-ish, that did not smell as appealing as his coffee, but of course he'd known it wouldn't. Wine wasn't something he drank for pleasure. He found it rather amusing actually, the way everyone seemed to dive for the drink whenever they got the chance. Alcohol tasted nasty, it smelled nasty; there was even an experiment somebody had done some fifty years ago or so, where they'd offered it to a cat, but whenever the cat got near enough to smell it, he'd wrinkle up his nose and then run away. That was because you only had to smell the stuff to know it wasn't good for you. As he recalled, had to put the cat under a lot of stress, make it about as nervous as any animal could get, before it would have anything to do with drinking... Seto wondered for a moment if that was why he was drinking, before he picked up the glass and took a drink, noting as he did, that the taste wasn't too offensive, that is if you liked spoiled grapefruit juice. Then he responded to Yami's "conversation".<p>

"Yuugi and Anzu." He ...sort of remembered Anzu. She had a temper on her, if he remembered, and she was way too mouthy for a girl. She protected Yuugi. But that's how it had always been, wasn't it? Everyone was always protecting Yuugi, who was way too soft and weak to survive by himself in the world. She was full of energy too, wasn't she? He wondered if she ever got bored, having to protect her boyfriend all the time, or if Yuugi's balls had dropped by now and maybe he was able to protect other people for a change. "I'm surprised," he said. "Why would she be with Yuugi, when she could be with you? Or maybe you're dating someone else?"

Seto took another drink, the wine ...not totally unpleasant on his tongue. Yami was saying something about how many fancy restaurants he probably went to all the time, and he nodded. "I have to go to places like this sometimes, yes," he said, "mostly when I do business with Pegasus." His lip-curl showed what he thought of the American. "It's his idea of fun. He forces me to go to some restaurant where they don't serve normal food, just so we can sign the contract for KaibaCorp to use Duel Monsters in our VR systems. How stupid is that?" he asked, sounding animated for the first time that evening. "He benefits as much as I do, why waste everybody's time? But of course Pegasus can't do anything the normal way. It's all got to be _fun_ for him."

* * *

><p>"Dating someone else? No, not really." Yami toyed a little with his own glass, enjoying the taste of the wine. He was fond of Chardonnay, and he never had it at home; no one else in the Mutou household cared for the taste of wine. "I never felt the urge to date Anzu," he continued, wondering why he was confessing this to Seto of all people. "She's a great friend, someone you can rely on, but I don't consider her as a lover. I think she fits Yuugi better."<p>

Nothing wrong with Anzu, indeed. She had a spunky personality, , and her body was to die for, a perfect elegant dancer's body, with nice… Ah, _assets_. Yami wondered for a moment, how it would feel to make love to a woman, to anyone, actually. He'd never done it in his old life, and it was still too early for him to have had the chance in the new one. He wasn't even sure who attracted him, whether he preferred men or women. …Although all of a sudden, the question began to make him curious.

"Pegasus, hm?" Yami continued, shaking his head at the thought of the eccentric American. Pegasus wasn't one he wanted on his friends-list, and he was glad it was Seto, rather than him, who had to interact with him. His idea of 'fun' had to be disturbing. "I hope he doesn't make things too much _fun_ for you," he said, then added with a grin, "you don't enjoy fun at all, Kaiba. What would it take for you to smile, really smile, not like your usual cat-ate-the-canary or I'm-going-to-kill-puppies smile?"

* * *

><p>"What do you mean I don't enjoy fun?" He'd only had a couple sips of his wine, and Seto didn't notice the loosening effects of it yet (although that's not to say someone else wouldn't have noticed them). He responded to Yami's teasing without anger, with something almost like amusement. "I like fun," he said. "I like to..." He stopped. He wanted to say he liked dueling, which was true of course, only not relevant, especially not when he was talking to Yami, the one duelist on earth who could consistently beat him. "People don't understand fun," he said instead. "They think you have to play, and do silly things, but designing a plan, and carrying it out, and then seeing the perfection you created with your own hands, that's fun too."<p>

That had to be the most personal thing he'd ever said to his rival, and Seto didn't notice it at all. He took another drink of his wine, and continued, "and I don't have an 'I'm-going-to-kill-puppies' smile. What a thing to say to someone, Yami. How about you? How about the I'm-awesomer-than-the-whole-world smirk you get when you're laying down a card during a duel? You're a one to talk about having fun. You're like all Yuugi's killer instinct, wrapped up in your own body. Ever since I've known you, he's had the fun, and you've won the duels."

Their waiter had reappeared at the table, delivering salads made out of what looked like spiky garden weeds, which apparently came with the night's special. It was not actively unappealing, but Seto ignored it. He could have salad any time he wanted (and normal salad too, not strange concoctions of plants nobody had ever heard of); interesting conversation was harder to come by. "What do you like besides winning duels?" he said. "Yuugi's got a girlfriend, and you're oh so happy for them, but you don't really sound like you want anything like that for yourself. And don't tell me you want to go watch a bunch of boring kabuki. Come on. Be honest. You just said that because you wanted to see how serious I was about this date, didn't you?"

* * *

><p>It was pretty tempting to reply "Because I <em>am<em> awesomer than the whole world", but Yami knew how conceited that would sound. He also realized that, well, in a way, Seto was right. He'd been interrogating him about having fun, but what did he have on his own to show for? Not that much fun either, right? What did he really enjoy? Well, since he had his own body, he'd enjoyed his freedom. It was amazing to walk around not having to share a body, and to do whatever you wanted; go to bed, brush your teeth, eat, drink, dance or whatever, without being dependent on someone else. He had discovered classics and literature, enjoying his visits to the library (on Yuugi's card, he didn't use it anyway) to get himself a pile of books. Reading was fun, but somehow Yami doubted that the other wanted to hear that.

"I'll have you know, Seto," Yami answered a little sourly, "that I do enjoy the arts and kabuki in particular, as it's something I've never been able to watch or enjoy in my life before. I died very young, remember? I have a new shot at life now, and I want to see and make the most out of it as possible. That you don't have an eye for the wonderful rich culture and traditions of your own country, is just embarrassing. And yes, I did suggest the theatre to test you, but if it's something that you can't live through, I'll be happy to either go without you, and you can enjoy your evening at home alone."

He raised his glass towards Seto's, continuing, "I have much to learn in this world, but I do already enjoy the smallest things, like a glass of wine, and a good dinner. And I'm always honest, Kaiba. A little less paranoia would do you well. If you want to be serious about this date, I suggest you act starting like an interesting partner instead of being an ass."

Now Yami picked up his fork and started tackling the salad, a delicious mixture of fresh green vegetables and several kinds of lettuce. "Oh, and so you know," he couldn't help adding, "most of the times I AM awesomer than the rest of the world, yes."

* * *

><p>"Cry me a river, everyone's had a tragic past, Yami." The words were out of Seto's mouth without his even having to think about them. "You didn't have a childhood because you got killed so young, but here you are now getting to do it all over again, so excuse me if I don't have much sympathy. I spent my childhood learning how to run KaibaCorp," he said, "and before that I was in an orphanage. How much fun do you think I had?" He'd always hated his rival's self-righteous attitude, which was just as obvious now as it always was, and he was about ready to get pissed off at it all over again, when Yami's other comments brought him up short:<p>

"_If you want to be serious about this date..._" Yeah, he wanted to be serious about it. It was imperative that he be serious about it; if Yami decided to get mad and leave halfway through, he'd be fucked, wouldn't he? Pegasus had told him to go out on a date with the ex-Pharaoh, not to take him out and then have him run immediately for home.

"We're going to see your precious kabuki," he said. "I told you we would, and we will. I'll probably be bored the whole time, but who cares?" He gave his best effort at a warm smile. "Your enjoyment will make it all worthwhile. Don't give me that shit about Japanese culture though," he went on. "You don't know jack-squat about Japanese culture. My heritage is where I get my love for technology, especially gaming technology. Do you know what that means, Yami? Do you know how much care and attention we Japanese have given, to designing things that will make children happy? All over the world, at any time of the day or night, there are children having fun, because of Japanese technology - Because of KaibaCorp technology. I'm proud of that," he said, sounding a little dramatic himself as well.

He forked up a few bites of the salad (which didn't taste all that bad really), and followed it with a swallow or two of wine. All in all, he thought, this date wasn't going too badly, even if Yami did have to brag on himself every two seconds.

* * *

><p>"Like you said yourself, cry me a river," Yami snapped back. "I don't care about how you're getting bored, or how bad your childhood has been. You asked me, no, demanded to go out on a date with me, and so far all you've done is bitched and whined. If this is such a sacrifice for you, Seto - He thought back to how the other had given up his BEWD just like that, - "then I'll finish my dinner and go home right now."<p>

He took a few bites of his salad: Delicious fresh, and a wonderful dressing, not too sweet, not to sour. His words had been harsh, and maybe he wasn't being the perfect guest either. Maybe he should try soothing Seto a little. "I know how good you are with technology, and I know how many people enjoy what you brought to their world," he said. "I didn't mean to say anything that belittled that. You know how much _I _enjoyed the holographic rendition of the Duel Monsters cards, and darn right you should be proud of that. You accomplished something, and no one can take that away from you. I apparently enjoy living in the past," he said without bitterness, "by reading history books and enjoying the art and performances of ancient centuries." His voice turned a little softer. Perhaps the wine was loosening him up as well, because he never confessed to this, not even to Yuugi. "I don't know how to live in the present. I feel safe with everything that has a past, a history. This world is going to fast, is too loud, too overwhelming. You were born in this world, knowing how to deal with it from the beginning. I feel like I've been put in the middle of a large department store trying to find the exit."

Another sip of wine, and, "cry me a river indeed," Yami murmured. "It wouldn't be bad to care a little more about the people around you. That's something I learned from Yuugi: It's not a weakness to care, it's not a weakness to show emotion."

* * *

><p>Lectures, and criticism; Yami was getting up on his high horse again, just like he did every time they met, Seto thought, and it was only good manners, or more accurately, the power of 10,000,000 Blue-Eyes White Dragons, ready to flood the market if he failed, that helped him keep his mouth shut. He gritted his teeth and stabbed at his salad hard with his fork, spearing hearts of palm and hearts of artichoke, as if they were hearts of Yami, until he was calm enough to respond politely. "All right yes," he said. "I guess dying must have been pretty bad, especially dying young like you did. And having friends is great, I never said I had anything against having friends. It must be," - He paused, looking for a word that fit. - "It must be ...useful," he said, "to have someone you can confide in."<p>

He finished his salad, spearing something round, that squeaked between his teeth, more like seafood should squeak than like a vegetable. "Speaking of friendship," he added, "I've always meant to ask you: Why are all your friends such losers? You've got a lot going for you," he said assesingly. "You've got dueling talent, and some brains. You know how to lead. You could be friends with anyone you want," he said, "but instead you always choose second-rate duelists like Jounuchi, and posers like Otogi. What is with that? Is it because you let Yuugi pick all your friends? - You let him pick your clothes too, don't you," he added, which was way more personal than anything he normally would have said to his rival, especially considering how close he came to grinning as he said it. "That explains the leather pants; he's got a pair just like them."

"Yours look better on you," he said, and then, when he realized what he'd just said, he took a quick drink of his wine, and then stared down into what was left, so hard that it should have started boiling.

* * *

><p>"They're not losers," Yami immediately defended his circle of friends. "Just because they don't have a multinational gaming company at their fingertips, doesn't make them losers. They all have assets that make them wonderful people: Loyalty, a listening ear, help and comfort in times of need, and fun and laughter in times of happiness. You probably don't believe me, Seto, but it would do you good to have some friends as well. No one is made to live the rest of their lives alone. I'm not saying you should be in a relationship," - He blushed faintly as he said this, even though he didn't know why. - "that's for each person to decide for themself. It has nothing to do with a relationship or staying single. Just to have some people around you, someone you can talk to…" He grinned. "That would've probably taught you that you don't just go around knocking on people's doors, and shoving chocolate at them when you want a date. You would've known that you have to woo a person."<p>

"Not that it matters much now," he continued, as to avoid an awkward silence. He had finished his salad, with proper nibbles and small bites, not stabbing and poking like Seto (who looked like a kid who didn't want to taste 'funny chunks' in his food). Did Seto even notice the freshness of the vegetables, the delicious aftertaste of the delicate dressing? Probably not. "We're on a date now, and it's all water under the bridge. But don't," and he almost wagged his finger, "judge people you don't even know. I would give a kingdom to have someone like Jounouchi at my side. His loyalty is more worth than the God Cards; I know I can always count on him."

Then Yami blushed some more, suddenly noticing Seto's comment about his pants. "Thank you," he said, pleased by what he took as a compliment to Yuugi (who did, as Seto said, pick most of his clothes) as well as to himself. "Do you think a suit looks good on me too?" he asked a little teasingly.

* * *

><p>'<em>Friends<em>', should be interesting, and the trouble with all Yuugi's friends, Seto thought, was that they weren't, not at all. Some of them were fools, and some of them were assholes, but none of them generated even the faintest spark of excitement when they entered a room, except maybe Anzu, and that was just because of those short skirts she always wore. But he didn't want to get into a whole big argument about it, because talking to Yami _was_ interesting. It was way more interesting than he'd expected it to be, and maybe that was the wine, but maybe he'd always been interesting (for himself that is, not just as a dueling opponent), and Seto just hadn't realized it. Maybe? Maybe he just wasn't quite as expert on what people were good for as he'd always thought.

No, he thought, that wasn't all that likely. But Yami was kind of fun to talk to, kind of more interesting than his flunkies at work, or even Mokuba, even right now when he seemed intent on talking about nothing but clothing. "What about my suit?" he said. "Does that look good on me too?" And for all it was a totally trivial thing to talk about, Seto decided to treat it as a serious question. He eyed Yami up and down. And he thought, as he always did, that he should lose the ridiculous hairstyle, which looked like he'd decided to stick a starfish on his head (but that one curl falling across his face was kind of nice), a starfish which had somehow managed to be three different colors. And he looked at the suit, and then, "the grey looks nice with your hair," he said. And then he thought what an incredibly girl-y thing that was for him to say, and he wished he'd just cut Yami off short after he asked such a ridiculous question in the first place.

...And then fortunately the waiter showed up, removing their salad plates, and replacing them with the huge new plates that held their entrees, which looked like little tiny clusters of tall buildings, surrounded by pools of multi-colored sauce. "You know this is still just food, for all it's so fancy," he said. "It's still just fuel for your body. And clothing is just clothing. You'd be the same person if you were naked, Yami," he said, not realizing at first what he'd just said.

* * *

><p>Out of everything he had expected, being eyed up and down by Kaiba Seto hadn't even made the list. It felt nice though, not awkward at all. Yami knew he was good looking and that his appearance was different from the usual crowd, and he normally reveled in attention, but being checked out by Seto felt something like a victory, even though he knew the CEO only did it to answer his question. His trademark smirk appeared on his face, curling his lips; this 'date' was going to be more interesting than he'd thought.<p>

"Naked, hm?" Yami couldn't help but continue that interesting subject. "What would you know about that? Have you seen that many people naked? Who knows what I'm hiding underneath these clothes." It was a a not-so-subtle insinuation; maybe he'd gone too far. "What I'm trying to say is, that appearances on first sight aren't always what they're supposed to be. You have such a quick opinion about everything, but have you ever tried really looking at what's there? Take this plate: It's food yes, and it's for our body, it's nutrition that gives us energy. But does that mean we can't appreciate it for its taste, its texture, its presentation? Should we shovel everything inside because it's 'just food' or can we stand still for a moment and be grateful that we have food, that we can eat, and that it's perfectly normal to appreciate it?"

He lifted up his spoon to gather a little of the sauce, and tasted it. "It's not 'just food', Seto. Open your nice blue eyes and really see for once. Enjoy the taste of what's on your plate, instead of doing it away as 'just food'. Take something on your spoon and _taste." _Yami licked his lips. "It's heavenly."

* * *

><p><em>Nice<em> blue eyes? He had _nice_ blue eyes? All that about ohh, life is so _lonely_ when you don't have _friendship_, and why can't you just _open your eyes and see what's all around you Seto_, that was just the usual crap, that Yami and his friends always gave him whenever they saw him, but _nice_ blue eyes? That one was new, and it was surprisingly flattering, coming from someone who'd never showed any signs that he saw him as anything besides a rival before. The endearment was kind of lovely - Seto hadn't lived the kind of life where he got very many endearments. - but the context for it was so weird, that it was hard to focus on the loveliness. Instead, he just blinked, and pretended it hadn't happened.

"This stuff?" He stirred his fork through the multicolored sauce pattern on his plate. There were puddles of gold, and puddles of crimson, and puddles of deep, dark green; it looked, not like food, he thought, but like someone was getting ready to paint Yami, with a whole bunch of trees in the background. And now all the colors were touching, and starting to get mixed together. Seto picked up his fork while they were still distinct enough to tell apart. "Sure, it tastes fine," he said without tasting it. "Why wouldn't it taste fine? They put enough work into making it taste fine certainly. But the point is, why would you want to waste all this time sitting around and nibbling little bits of this and that, and dabbing with sauces that are the same color as your eyes, Yami? Why not just eat, and get done with it, and then go do something more interesting? Dueling for instance?" He licked the fork, and what was weird, was that you could tell the difference between the three kinds of sauces. The yellow tasted one way, and the red tasted another way, and the green tasted a third way, and they weren't just good, they were actually kind of interesting. He could get into eating like this, at least once, at least for long enough to figure out what he was eating exactly, and how they got it to taste like that.

"Okay, this stuff's not bad, I'll give you that." He speared the top layer, a piece of something floppy and green, that might have been seaweed, or pasta, or ...the gods knew what. "Now, back to you being naked:" Being Kaiba Seto, he of course wasn't going to shy away from Yami's implied challenge. "What are you hiding under those clothes?" he said. "Is it something really embarrassing? Were you given a body that didn't have all its parts?" This time he did grin, and it was a gamer's grin, the expression of someone who had just upped the ante. "I've seen you in those leather pants of yours," he said, "and you didn't look like you were missing anything."

* * *

><p>Yami winced at Seto stirring his food, all but mixing the sauces together. How could you taste the exclusive flavors if you mixed everything up like that? Was it so difficult for him just to appreciate something for once? Not that he could really blame him, after all, they were kind of alike, weren't they? Both rulers in their own right, they were nothing like the 'ordinary crowd'. The way Seto behaved, was authoritative, someone who was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it, and how he wanted it; maybe he acted like a spoiled child sometimes, but was that so surprising, considering how he'd been raised? Wait... – Yami caught himself - Was he starting to feel <em>empathy <em>towards Seto? Usually it was his aibou, Yuugi, who was quick with the forgiving and the empathic emotions.

"It sounds to me like you need someone who can show you the other side of life," Yami said, "someone who can show you that it's not all about work-work-work. There is more to life yes. Just breathing, eating for enjoyment, instead of shoveling your food down: You like it, don't you?" That came out entirely wrong; he'd been referring to the food, but his voice decided to go a little husky at that moment and he ran out of breath at the last syllable, eliciting a soft gasp. Gods! Of all the moments for him to start sounding like a porn star!

"Dueling, that is," he continued, blushing. "And with one BEWD card in my possession, I'm sure you're going to challenge me sooner or later. Talking about my leather pants, I didn't know you paid so much attention to them and how I wear them. I've always wondered why you'd wear a coat like yours. Even though it leaves everything open at the front," - Yami smirked. - "it leaves much to the imagination from behind. Do _you_ have something to hide underneath all that fabric, Seto?"

* * *

><p>"What? You mean my dueling coat, right? You don't mean this?" Seto ran his hand down the sleeve of the purple coat he wore. He thought about the big white coat he wore for tournaments, that was designed with intimidation in mind. Yeah, that one was all about how long it hung down in back, but that was to make him look taller, - And it didn't hurt that it always made his entrances and exits so dramatic either. - it wasn't supposed to draw attention to anything underneath. And this coat he was wearing tonight ...that had coattails too... Was that really what everyone was looking at? Seto's eyes dropped to his lap for a moment, noticing for the first time, how close-fitting the black pants he wore with it really were, and it occurred to him <em>what else<em> they might be looking at. When he looked up at Yami, his cheeks were a shade pinker.

"You're joking," he said. "No one ever looks at my butt. It's a pity too," he added, with his self-command back, and an almost joking tone to his voice. "I've got a good butt. Just because I don't go showing it off all the time like some people I could mention..." Yami had changed, hadn't he? - It didn't occur to Seto that he'd changed too. - He'd been stuffier when they'd first sat down, more judgmental. He'd been more like he usually was during a tournament, like he was the boss of everything, and thought he knew everything. Now he was more relaxed, even kind of ...The young CEO's mind floundered in search of the word "fun", but he'd never really learned it. Yami was just _different_, was all.

"You always defend everyone, don't you?" Seto said. "You defend your friends, and total strangers you meet. You're defending this food," - He pointed his fork at the, now teetering, stacks on his plate. - "I'll bet you're going to defend the kabuki theatre when we get there. You talk about how I'm always work-work-work, but you're always defend-defend-defend. You don't have to be, not tonight. What am I going to do," he said, "take away this pasta's locator cards if it doesn't live up to my expectations? ...It is pasta, isn't it?" he added, tasting the piece on his fork, "or is it seaweed?"

* * *

><p>"You're unbelievable." Yami shook his head, but he couldn't help a grin appearing on his face, a smirkish grin, of genuine amusement. "That's what I meant the entire time, silly!" - He didn't notice that he'd just called the youngest and most influential CEO around 'silly'. - "You call it 'defending', but I was just calling your attention to it. Taste the food, really taste it – don't sit there asking me if it's pasta or seaweed. You need to open your mind and take in life, and not your work all the time. It's pasta, by the way," he added helpfully. "You're so busy with your work that you don't recognize pasta any more, and don't allow yourself to taste it. It's extremely good food, not something I could afford, and for you it's 'just food'. Even if it's 'just food', pay some attention to it, Seto. It would do you good."<p>

Yami had finished his own plate, enjoying the rarity of the dish. This wasn't something he could have at the Mutou home, and he was humble enough to appreciate it. It must be very different for Seto, who could lavish himself with this kind of food whenever he wanted to. Such a shame that he didn't seem to appreciate it. Had work overtaken him so much that he couldn't even taste the finer things in life? And why was he, Yami, even thinking about it? This wasn't a real date; Seto had 'bought' his company by giving him his BEWD. Yami sipped of his wine, enjoying this taste in particular; cheap wine could be awful, but this was the best of the best.

"Concerning your dueling coat," - He chuckled a little. - "I didn't know you had clothing especially for dueling. Yuugi always had that stupid school uniform... but well, it _is_ a pity that no one looks at your butt. You don't give anyone the chance to, ever! How can you keep all that good stuff to yourself all the time, and deprive the entire world of what you have?" It had to be the rush of the evening, somehow, because he couldn't really believe that he was saying this. Yami tried to hide behind his glass. "Uhm, well, what I'm saying is... maybe you should try to wear leather pants. You never know, you might like it."

* * *

><p>"Know it all," Seto said, but there was no rancor in his voice. The floppy stuff on his fork was green, dark green; it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world, that it was pasta, but for once, he didn't really care all that . What did capture his attention, was the relaxed, boyish smile on Yami's face. The word that crossed his mind for it, was "cute", but as soon as he thought that, he pushed it away again. Cute? Who went around thinking their rival was "cute?" "Mutou Yami," he said (and if he could have seen, the expression on his own face was pretty relaxed and boyish as well), "the expert on everything. The all-knowing genius who instantly recognizes ugly squares of green stuff for what they are, because he always '<em>opens his mind and takes in life.<em>' - That sounds really wrong for some reason," he added with a grin.

Opening his own mouth, he took in the ugly green pasta. It was cold now from waiting, and when he looked over at Yami's plate, he saw that he was completely finished with his entree. Quickly, he took a few more bites of his own, before pushing it away with enough gone to make it look like he'd eaten it. Yami's lectures to the contrary, food was still food, to the young CEO, and it was something he could have any old time he wanted. Arguing with his rival on the other hand, was fun, and and more interesting than any food. He emptied his wine glass, then signaled for the waiter.

A glance at his watch, showed him time was getting short before the kabuki performance started. "There's no time for dessert, unfortunately," he said, "not if we want to get to your theatre in time." - In this part, he was totally sincere; of all the kinds of food in the world, which he mostly ignored to get work done, the only kind besides coffee that actually provoked much interest in him, was sweets. - "So I guess I'll have to give you something else for your dessert." Seto couldn't believe he was really doing this; not only was it flirting, with his arch-rival of all people, but it was _silly_, just like Yami had called him just now, but he got up, and he turned, and he flipped up his coattails in back, and he actually got in a good butt-waggle in Yami's direction, before he saw the waiter approaching, and retreated back into his usual icy dignity.

"There," he said, grinning at Yami. "Was it all you dreamed it would be?"


	3. The Kiss

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

"You've got weird taste in entertainment," Seto commented to his guest, as they headed out to the car. "_X-Men __First __Class _is at the Imax by the university. It's just a sequel, but the critics say it's not bad."

"Or I could show you my Battle Tower," he said, climbing in and settling next to Yami. This was, for him, the hugest of concessions: His duel simulator at the top of the KaibaCorp building was private, a training program that he'd first had built after Duelist Kingdom, and the humiliating realization that he'd only beaten Mutou Yuugi by threatening to kill himself if he lost. Even now, even after the God Cards had pretty well made it impossible that he would ever beat his rival, he still kept it up-to-date with all the latest cards, and the latest stats for all the best players in the world.

* * *

><p><em>X-Men<em>? "Yuugi saw that movie," Yami said, almost icily. "I don't want to. It's not my taste to watch a bunch of people with strange powers. I told you before, I live in the past." It sounded more bitter than he intended, but it held a grain of truth in it; Yami had difficulties adapting to the real, current world, and clinging to arts and crafts from the past was his way to deal with it. Kabuki was an old form of art, and he'd been looking forward to enjoying it tonight.

"Your cultural history is one of the most refined in the world," said, "coming close to Ancient Egypt, of course. You really should pay more attention to the cultural side of your nation, instead of burying yourself in technology."

"Culture versus technology, right. Haven't we had this discussion already?" Seto was frowning again, his blue eyes back to being icy-cold, instead of boyish and sparkly like they'd been at the restaurant.

Yami had a moment of regret for the change before he caught himself, and realized he'd just been obsessing on his rival's eyes, of all things. He folded his arms and frowned back, just as icy-cold. "I want to see the kabuki performance, not your Battle Tower."

* * *

><p>"Well that just figures, doesn't it?" The car hadn't moved yet. It was still sitting where it had pulled up to let them in, still taking up a big chunk of prime territory right in front of Kiyoshi. There were honks from the cars around it, and Seto could hear complaints and remonstrances coming from the sidewalk, but no one said anything directly, not to him or to his driver, such was the power of the discrete KC logo on the door. Seto didn't care for them. Let them howl, let them complain. His mind was on Yami, sitting like a rock in the seat next to him, and, like a rock, completely unbudgeable.<p>

"We have to go to your precious kabuki theatre, don't we?" He felt almost as ineffective as those complaining drivers outside the car. It was a new feeling for the Head of KaibaCorp, not to be able to get what he wanted just by saying, and it wasn't a pleasant one. Plus of course, that he wasn't going to be able to talk to Yami at his stupid theatre. It was just going to be one long evening of "ooh, that painted-up demon over there, just talked to the painted-up maiden," and "oh, wasn't the guy who played the daimyo great in that last speech?" They'd been having fun together before they left the restaurant. Was it all going to be ruined now, by some piece of fucking culture?

"Fine, we'll go to your theatre," he growled. The car was still stationary at the curb, but that would change in a moment, wouldn't it? "It's too much to ask that we do something we both enjoy, isn't it? It's too much to ask that we go somewhere where we can actually talk, instead of just watching a lot of guys in costumes walk around acting medieval."

* * *

><p>Seto wanted to <em>talk? <em>So he was taking him to duel at his Battle Tower?" Even if it had made sense, which it didn't, it was still frustrating. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him. But on the other hand, putting the pressure on Seto to actually go, would ruin the evening anyway. Seto had made it clear the kabuki performance wasn't his cup of tea (despite allowing Yami to choose) and Yami wasn't sure if he could stand the entire performance sitting next to someone as bored and fidgety as Seto thinking of nothing but his Battle Tower.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared in front of him. Yuugi would've solved the problem without any difficulties, his aibou was gentle and agreeable, and always made things work so everyone had a good time. But his aibou wasn't here, and at times like this, Yami missed his sensitivity to human interaction. Meanwhile though, while the silence in the car was deafening, the noises of hollering and horns honking from outside, just kept getting louder and louder, and he realized that their car was holding up traffic. Annoyed, "fine," he said, "just drive already. We're holding the entire city up!"

* * *

><p>"We'll go to the kabuki theatre." - "We'll go to the Battle Tower." - "Kabuki theatre." - "Battle Tower." - "Blah-blah." - "Yah-yah." - It stood to reason, thought the driver, from his comfortable place in the front seat and away from the both of them, that if Kaiba Seto was going to get himself a boyfriend, it would be someone as stiff-necked and bossy as he was himself. - If you could call this kid his 'boyfriend'; it wasn't like there was any boyfriendlike behavior going on between them. Kaiba-sama was sitting up straight like a ramrod on one side of the car. The other one, what was his name, Mutou or something, was sitting up just as straight (only a lot more short) on the other side. - What was less typical, was how he'd all of a sudden turned passive-aggressive. And so was the other one, from the sound of it.<p>

"Kabuki theatre, grumble-grumble-grumble," went Kaiba, in a voice that could have scorched earth, a voice that left no doubt at all, that he wanted just the opposite.

And, "_fine,_" came back the other one, his own voice breathing martyred woundedness like he should be in a painting with a halo around his head. "Go ahead and drive," he said, spitting it out like it was a major concession. Only was it? Where was he agreeing to go to?

Confused, the driver did nothing. The car just sat there for a long minute, while he tried to tease out which passive-aggressive agreement he was supposed to act on here. Kaiba wanted to go to the Battle Tower, only he'd said they would go to the theatre. And the other one, he'd said, "all right already, fine," only what was it he was agreeing on? If it was opposite day, it couldn't have been any more confusing.

The horns grew louder, as the car went on sitting perfectly still and, "you heard him," Kaiba growled from the front seat, and then, louder, "drive!"

"Kaiba-sama, where? Where do you want me..." the driver began, only to be interrupted as the maitre'd came huffing out of the restaurant and straight toward the stationary car with fire in his eyes.

"Just fucking drive," Kaiba yelled. "Weren't you fucking listening?"

And so he drove. He made the most logical conclusion he could about where they were going. He projected trajectories and calculated potential impacts (of the boom Kaiba-sama would lower on him if he made the wrong choice) like a good KaibaCorp employee, and he drove. ...To where he knew his boss really wanted to go, in other words the Battle Tower, because who was this starfish-headed little non-boyfriend in the backseat, to decide where the CEO of KaibaCorp would be going?

* * *

><p>Sitting next to him in as the car pulled away from the curb, Yami huffed like a steam engine. He breathed like he could get prizes for it. If temper tantrums could be made just of inhaling and exhaling, Yami, Seto told himself, was making one now. It was like being stuck in the back seat with a snake or something, that couldn't stop hissing its anger at being around all the other snakes - Did snakes do that? - and what pissed him off the most, he thought, his own breath hissing in and out pretty audibly too, was that they were going where Yami wanted. What the fuck did he have to be mad about?<p>

He was very sure they were going where Yami wanted. That's where they'd agreed to go in the first place. Yeah, he'd suggested someplace else, someplace interesting, but Yami had shot that down, and he'd agreed of course, because he had to. He hadn't expected it to feel like this, where he'd be torn between doing what it took to save his dragons and hating every minute, and breaking out to actually do something fun, with a rival suddenly turned into his friend, and he resented the hell out of it, but what could he do? He'd made a commitment to do what Yami wanted, and if that wasn't going to change, he was pretty much stuck.

Outside the car, rain had started to fall. At first, the lights of the buildings they passed showed smeared and elongated, a lightshow more than a proper view of the city streets they were passing. Then, inevitably (with all that angry breathing going on in the back seat), the insides of the windows fogged up, and after that the city wasn't visible at all. ...Or the suburbs? ...Or whatever they were passing? At any rate, with the grey upholstery, and the fogged-up windows grey now too, the car felt like a moving box-of-grey, with even the vivid colors of Yami's ridiculous tricolor hair, and his deep-red eyes were muted into grey by the dim light that made it into the car, and Seto couldn't help thinking how well that fit with the grey boringness of sitting through the evening at the kabuki theatre.

And then the car stopped, and he swung the door open and stepped out into a world that was bright and vivid again (albeit a little wet), and looked up to see the imposing height of the KaibaCorp building in front of him, instead of the theatre he'd been expecting, he could feel his spirits lift. He grinned, and he turned back to the car with some vague idea in his mind about helping Yami out, before he took him upstairs to show him all the latest features on his duel simulator. And it was only then that it hit him, that _this __wasn__'__t __where __they __were __fucking __supposed __to __be._

* * *

><p>The second he stepped out of the car, Yami knew he wasn't at the kabuki theater, of course. He wasn't even in the center of the city anymore and when he looked to his right, he saw the outlines of the KaibaCorp building faintly lit in the evening dark, its windows brightly lit, like a beacon in a dark ocean. Over the hood of the car, Yami looked at Seto, just in time to catch him grinning.<p>

"This is _not _the kabuki theater," he immediately snapped. "What are you thinking by taking me here?" It sounded like he was being kidnapped, but Yami wasn't able to hide his disappointment from his voice. He had really thought that they were going to the theater, to see something he had wanted to see ever since he had his own body. He stared at Seto, anger and disapproval radiating from his face.

And Seto stared back. "Did you hear me ask the driver to come here?" His voice was cold, and there was no trace of warmth - or humanity - in his face. This was Kaiba-sama the CEO of KaibaCorporation, not the companion Yami had enjoyed dinner with at Kiyoshi.

"The driver had his instructions," Seto said. "I told him where we wanted to go this morning. I don't have any more idea than you do, why he brought us back here instead. But that doesn't explain you," he told Yami. "You're immediately ready to believe the worst of me. And you'd rather go to the theatre, where we can't even have a decent conversation, than to go somewhere we'd both enjoy."

"You realize we'll be late if we do go," he said. "We'll get there, and we'll probably walk in, in the middle of the first act, and everybody will stare at us. Is that what you want, Yami? I'll do it if want to," he said.

The rain was starting to really fall now. They were standing there, each of them on his own side of the KaibaCorp limo, glaring at each other across the shiny grey roof. As much as he'd wanted to see the kabuki performance, Yami only felt more frustration, now that his chance of going was restored to him. "What is this to do to someone on a date?" he grumbled. "First you say you'll go wherever I want, then when I try to collect on that, you act like some kind of a martyr? I didn't even know Kaiba Seto could act like a martyr. I'd like to see what Siegrfried von Schroeder would say, or Amelda." He put out his hand. "You're so sincere? I want the money for new tickets. I'll take Yuugi instead, at least he'll have the sense to appreciate it, and then you can take me upstairs and show me your Battle Tower, and we'll see how much _talk_we get in, when you're showing me a bunch of holographic Monsters that I've seen a million times before."

* * *

><p>The KaibaCorporation building was just an office building, one of a string of office buildings, on a street that was lined with office buildings, but it had always felt more like a home to Seto than the Mansion, where he'd lived ever since his adoption. It loomed behind him now like a friendly presence, with the security lights on so he could find the alarm box and type in the code easily, and the two guards who patrolled, both ready to stay the fuck out of his way and not interrupt him, which is what they always did when he came in at night to work. The thought of going up to his comfortable office (with the duel simulator on the floor right above), of taking off his wet coat and maybe making a pot of coffee to take the chill off after having stood around in the rain, lifted his spirits like it always did.<p>

"Let's go inside," Seto said. "I'll write you a check in there," and he led the way, hurrying across the rain-slick sidewalk, to the relative shelter of the awning over the door. He got them inside as quickly as he could, unlocking the door, neutralizing the alarm, and taking Yami up to his office via the private elevator that was reserved for his use. Once there, he turned on all the lights right away, in hopes of giving some faint air of hominess, to what was pretty much an all-business scene. Not that the cold white light of the flourescent bulbs really helped very much.

"I've got coffee," he said, "or I've got some sandwiches that are from this week ...I think. You want something, Yami?"

* * *

><p>It was just as cold in Seto's office as it was outside. What's more, the place was depressing: No plants, no personal belongings, not even a picture of Mokuba somewhere. It was such a stark contract to the color-filled, cluttered home of the Mutou family that it made him almost feel sad for Seto; unlike the CEO, Yami at least had a family (Yuugi's) to go home to. Seto only had Mokuba, and now that he was starting to grow up, how long would he have him? What's more, his office was grim, and bleak, as lonely, Yami thought, as the rest of Seto's was probably. No wonder Seto muted all of his emotions, Yami mused, he'd have to, to put up with this place.<p>

"Just coffee," Yami nearly shuddered at the thought of the week-old sandwiches Seto had offered him. "I'd like to warm a little up." He eyed the office a little more, squinting his eyes at the bright light. "Don't you have something that's more friendly?" He asked. "Like, dim lights? I feel like I'm... overexposed." Well, that was a stupid thing to say in Seto's presence, but he almost felt x-rayed, naked, because of the harsh light.

* * *

><p>The smell of stale coffee, the sight of his computer, sitting quiet, waiting for his commands, like the best and most loyal of friends, that's what spelled home for Seto, who'd occupied this office ever since his step-father first started giving him KaibaCorp responsibilities (he'd chosen not to move into Gozaburo's big office when he'd taken over as CEO), and who had stayed here many a night, just because it felt more comfortable than going back to the Mansion. Just walking in here, relaxed him, lifted his spirits. And, by improving his mood, it also made him more sensitive to Yami's.<p>

His guest was looking around with an uncomfortable, almost confused look on his face. He obviously didn't feel the appeal of the place, and probably wouldn't, even if he opened up the beta file for the next-model Duel Disk and showed it to him, Seto thought, feeling impressed with his own sensitivity. He'd better stick with the basics, he told himself, as he dumped out the old grounds in the drip machine, and refilled it to start coffee for them to share.

"Too bright?" Here on his home turf, he was ready to do whatever he could to make Yami comfortable, even trotting from one end of the room to the other one, pretty much at his command. Again, Seto congratulated himself on being a sensitive host, as he left the coffee maker to do its work, and went to turn off switches and adjust the light. Turning off one, then even two of the three, didn't do very much, and he finally switched them all off, and turned on the lamp on his desk for the only light. "There," he said. "Is that better?"

He also, hospitably, wiped the last semi-clean cup, and cleared the crusty stuff off the pour-spout of the creamer. There wasn't any sugar, so Yami was out of luck if he wanted that, but after all, how many people did? Seto filled two cups and turned to his guest. "How do you like your coffee?" he asked him.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee and the lights being turned down to at least a little, made Yami feel more at ease. He still was a little taken aback by the no-personality interior decoration of the office. Was this really the place Seto worked every day? No wonder he was so gloomy and so business-like. Didn't people have pictures of their relatives on their desks? Didn't they at least put something on their desks, that was significant of their personality? Nothing spoke of anything personal here, and it made him feel tense and uncomfortable.

* * *

><p>"Much better, yes," Yami said, referring to the light that at least softened the office now that it wasn't as bright as before, and continued, "black, please." He didn't care for sweets or sugar in particular and didn't see why he should add sugar or creamer to coffee, which should have enough flavor of its own - unless it was the cheap kind, of course. Would Seto also be so un-personal that he didn't even have his own stash or brand of coffee? Well, it didn't matter much. Yami thought; he'd enjoy the coffee anyway. It was a good closure after dinner, now that he didn't get to see the kabuki performance.<p>

"So this is your office," he stated the obvious. "All business-like, just like you, right Seto? I was expecting something more... luxurious from the head of KaibaCorp."

Seto _didn__'__t _have his own stash of coffee. It never would have even occurred to him to; coffee was just fuel of course, albeit, fuel for concentration, rather than for mere survival. In other words, it was more important than food, which was why he knew how to make it at all; he'd never have bothered learning to make his own sandwiches. The smell coming from the two cups he poured screamed "cheap and generic". It was the lousy, burnt smell that comes out of diners at 3 AM, and gives long-distance drivers a depressing welcome in truck-stops wherever goods are being hauled. It wasn't that Seto didn't know there were other kinds of coffee, because he did certainly, especially now that Mokuba had started bringing coffee back for him, after meeting his friends at Starbucks. It's just that he didn't care. This was the coffee he'd learned to drink when Gozaburo had made him pull all-nighters; it was the coffee he still drank now. It kept him awake just as well as the fancy kind, didn't it?

"Black?" He gave a brief nod, hearing Yami's request, then poured some creamer into his own cup (necessary to cut the lousy taste of the coffee) and brought the cups over to the sofa. "You want to sit down?" He dropped down without waiting for Yami to respond to the offer, and took a quick swallow of coffee before he spoke again.

"This room is luxurious," he said. "I've got all the luxury I want there." He jerked his head toward the computer on his desk. "Since when does it have to be real-life to count as luxury?" he asked Yami. "Virtual reality is just as good."

As he sat down, Yami sipped some coffee, and could barely refrain from a disapproving scowl. It had been a while since he had coffee this bad. He couldn't believe the CEO of KaibaCorp would drink coffee that tasted this cheap, too cheap even to be served at the ramen place down the street from the Game Shop.  
>"Luxury," he said, "isn't all about the things that you surround yourself with. It's about feeling, too. I know it sounds strange, coming from me..." Yami wasn't the person to really talk openly about his feelings, and it felt weird, besides, to talk to Seto about something so personal. "This office is depressing," he said. There's no comfort, there's no warmth. Where's the picture of your brother? Where are the plush cushions on your sofa, to name something?"<p>

"It's just little things," Yami tried to take the sting out of his words, "but they can make a gigantic difference. You can't be happy with only technology surrounding you, Seto. Are you happy? Really, really happy, with nothing but machines in your life?"

* * *

><p>The cup of coffee warmed his hands and sent trails of nice-smelling steam up into his face. The sofa was soft, and the yellow light of his desk lamp was cozy. It was weird being in his office just to relax; it felt like he should have had to do hours and hours of work first to get to this point. But it felt nice. And being with Yami felt comfortable. Seto was getting used to his endless pick-pick-picking and nag-nag-nagging. - He sounded like a mother hen, and that was way more mothering than Seto could remember ever having gotten in his life before, which probably helped. - It was just Yami's way, he thought, and after a good dinner, with nothing ahead but a little quiet conversation and some coffee, he was inclined not to mind it too much.<p>

"I get it," he said. "You don't like technology." Outside, the wind had picked up, and was blowing waves of rain against the windows. Seto could hear it hit, and somehow the sound made it feel all the cozier to be inside, sitting with Yami on the sofa. "You want me to have real paintings on the wall, and real books, and real pictures of Mokuba, and the digital ones don't count in your eyes. You want me to have cushions on the sofa. Yami, why do you think I come in here, to work, or to sit on the sofa?"

"I could have taken you back to the Mansion," he said, "onlly I hate it there. This is where I feel at home." If it was strange for _Yami _to talk about his feelings, it was a million times stranger when Seto did it. But things had changed since the beginning of the evening, hadn't they? Maybe it was the wine they'd had with dinner, maybe it was the warm, coffee-smelling quiet inside the office. Maybe somewhere along the line he and Yami had become friends. That wasn't totally outside the realm of possibility, was it?

"My step-father gave me this office." As always when he mentioned Gozaburo, Seto's lip curled. "He wanted me to work here to 'prove myself', and show I was 'worthy to be his son.' But I didn't care, because I knew I was worthy, and I knew I'd prove that, as soon as I was given the chance. This was the first place I ever had where I could shut the door," he said. "I could close everyone else out and think by myself. You're the first person I ever brought here Yami, and I brought you because you're more interesting than peace and quiet. Now stop nagging, and let's talk."

* * *

><p>In Yami's defense, he hadn't wanted to criticize Seto, but it was difficult for him to understand why someone with his money, would put up with an office this drab. He tried to soften his reaction, tried to understand Seto's mindset. It was Gozaburo who had made him like this, wasn't it? It was the step-father who'd only taken him in for his own benefit, and who'd raised him with harsh beatings, pushing him to the limits, showing him nothing but contempt and disdain, instead of love and affection. It was a miracle that Seto hadn't turned out completely psychotic; it told a lot about his inner strength that he didn't allow his stepfather to hold more of an influence over him.<p>

"I'm sorry if I offended you," Yami finally said. "I should've known that this place was more to you than just a mere office." It wasn't easy for him to apologize, but it felt right; after all, Seto had done his best. He'd provided coffee …of sorts. And he'd adjusted the lights when Yami asked him to. It _was _cozier in here with just the desk lamp, he told himself... Even though 'cozy' and this office didn't belong in the same sentence. He should be a good guest and stop criticizing.

"More interesting than peace and quiet, hm?" He picked up on Seto's words. "How?"

* * *

><p>"Yes, more interesting." Seto met his gaze. "I thought it was just with dueling," he said, "but you make everything into a challenge, don't you? I can challenge myself with the deck of any known Duel Monsters player, any time I want up there," - Seto thumb-pointed at the ceiling toward his Battle Tower as he spoke. - "I can set challenging work-goals for myself, but it all gets kind of predictable. You're interesting because I never know what you're going to say."<p>

That wasn't a really intimate thing to say, was it? It wasn't like he'd said, '_Yami, __you__'__re __cute,_' or '_I __want __to __kiss __you __Yami,_' or something. But it felt intimate for some reason, it felt like he'd just bared his soul. Seto stared down silently into his coffee. He was embarrassed, or maybe he was just confused, and wondering if he should be embarrassed. Maybe he was just wondering what his best next step was. He felt like he was really getting close to Yami. He felt like he wanted to get even closer. But close? Like ...kiss-close? Like putting his arms around him kind of close?

Once he thought of it, the picture came into his head unbidden, and once it was there, he couldn't get it out. What would Yami do if he did that? Would he laugh at him? Would he get all shocked and give him one of his patented Yami-lectures like he'd done about everything else? Would he ...like it, maybe respond? And then what would that feel like? Setos don't blush. After a long moment he looked up from his coffee again, to see Yami still looking at him. "What are you waiting for me to say?" he asked him.

* * *

><p><em>"I <em>_don't __know," _was actually the first answer to pop up in Yami's mind, and really, he didn't know. Was he waiting for Seto, to say something? What would he say? …What would he do?

"I'm..." Yami started. He looked at Seto, who had taken him out on a date and who was showing him his office. He couldn't ask for a bigger glimpse into his heart, could he? Seto was as closed and cold as a rock of ice, yet that wasn't all he was, was it? There was strength there, and there was passion, no matter how much Seto tried to hide it.

"I'm waiting for you to kiss me," Yami finally blurted out. Well, he could learn a little subtlety from Yuugi, that was for sure. Besides, it wasn't even an answer to Seto's question. He felt his face go hot, and he wondered uncomfortably about Seto's reaction. If he'd read this situation wrong, Seto was going to throw him out of the building and mock him for the rest of his life.

* * *

><p>'<em>I<em>_'__m __waiting __for __you __to __kiss __me._' Seto put his cup down on the coffee table. Whatever he'd been expecting Yami to say, that wasn't it. _Him_ kiss Yami? Him kiss _his__rival_, the only person he'd never been able to best in a duel, the holder of the God Cards, that he'd only just fired up the duel simulator this morning and tried to beat (unsuccessfully) again? At first the confused tangle of objections and surprised protest was all there was in his brain, and he couldn't think at all, for just the sheer surprise of hearing Yami's suggestion, he was just sitting there looking at him, staring at him rather, with his mind in total shock. Then after he stared a moment, his eyes locked on Yami's dark-red eyes. He looked _at_them, and then he looked into them, and it was like he couldn't look away.

Yami was smiling. His eyes were warm, and he was smiling, and hardly even knowing he was doing it, Seto moved closer to him. He stared into Yami's eyes, and he didn't notice, as he put his hands on his shoulders, and moved even closer, until their lips touched. Yami's lips were cool and still against his, and how wrong was this, Seto found himself thinking, if he was the only one doing anything. He was the only one who even wanted this, wasn't he, he thought, and as soon as he let him up, Yami was probably going to leave. Only he didn't let him up, and he didn't move away from him, he just kept his lips where they were, until he felt Yami's warm and open a little.

And then he pulled away, a little shocked at his own success. "Like that?" he asked, his voice unsteady.


	4. Hardcore, Bareass Prideshipping FTW

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

* * *

><p>Note: The rating goes up for this chapter, which is the foreplay part of a longer, explicitly sexual chapter, that we've posted at our LJ, and on AO3. We hope you'll read here, then maybe get so curious to see the rest of the scene, that you'll want to go read it immediately. ...At least, we hope that this naughty little bit of Prideshipping action will enliven a few minutes of your time, at the tail end of this holiday weekend. Cheers, everyone.<p>

* * *

><p>His first kiss, his actual first kiss, and it was no one else but Kaiba Seto kissing him. Why had he even asked for a kiss in the first place? And why... of all places, of all situations, of all people.. did it have to be a kiss in Kaiba Seto's office, on a dinky sofa. Shouldn't it have been romantic at least? Shouldn't Seto have cupped his face, pressed his lips gently to his? What was all this about? And why was he thinking about it now anyway, going off on such tangents, when he had just been <em>kissed<em> for crying out loud? He was pick-pick-picking again, just like Seto called it.

"More," he said, his confidence boosted now that Seto _had_ kissed him, had showed he was interested, at least. He sat up a little straighter, pressing his own lips to Seto's, his hands immediately on his shoulders. His body wasn't closer to Seto's, but he made the kiss more intimate by touching him with his hands, fingers sliding over strong shoulders. Yami pressed his lips a little harder, enjoying the moment, and enjoying the sensations surging through his body.

* * *

><p>More, yes. After that first kiss, Seto wanted more. He wanted a lot more, as if kissing Yami had inflamed his whole body. This was where he belonged, and this was what he was supposed to be doing. The feel of Yami's mouth opening to his was good, the touch of Yami's tongue against his own lips, made total sense. If there was anything wrong, it was that it wasn't enough. Seto was at one end of the sofa, and Yami, well he had been at the other end, but now he was sitting close, his arms around Seto's neck, hands extended to touch his shoulders and his back. "More," he said. "Yes, Yami." And he adjusted his position, angling them so that Yami was against the back of the sofa, and he was leaning in close from the front. He kissed him again, harder, deeper, and more intently this time.<p>

Even though Yami had been the first to move closer and actually touch Seto, initiate the physical contact, it felt natural to him when Seto took over, wrapping his arms around him and changing their position. Due to their height difference, he felt 'covered' by Seto's taller body, and it didn't feel uncomfortable at all, it felt.. safe. This was what it felt like to be protected, he thought, to be taken in someone's arms and feel safe. Was this how Yuugi had felt when he had looked to him for protection? He'd been behind his aibou all the time, looking out for him, offering it whenever Yuugi needed it. Now, today, he was the one being protected.

"Move," Seto said, and he moved himself, so that Yami could stretch out, and he could stretch out on top of him. The sofa was more than long enough, not that he cared right now. He wouldn't have minded if his legs were hanging over the edge, or if they were lying on the floor for that matter, as long as he could get at all of Yami. His hands slid down Yami's back to his waist, then below it, inside his pants to touch the skin of his ass. That was awkward, his belt too tight to allow both hands to fit (part of the adjustments that had been made when the suit was cut down to fit him, probably), and Seto brought one hand out as quick as he'd put it in, then fumbled at the belt, undoing it, then undoing the waistband of the pants as well. Then he slid both hands back inside. He cupped Yami's ass, his fingers kneading a little, pressing Yami's body closer to his, as close as he could get it. Gods, this felt good. He'd never thought anything could feel this good.

"More." He wasn't telling it to Yami, or to himself really. He was just commenting. And as he said it, his own hands went into action getting the 'more': He unbuttoned his own shirt, his hands urgent, rough enough that at least one button popped loose and went rolling away on the floor, and pulled it off with hurried motions, throwing it onto the floor next to the couch. He leaned close to Yami, his mouth finding Yami's and taking it again as if he owned it. This time instead of just sliding his hands back under his pants though, he pushed at the pants, sliding them down, baring Yami's ass and upper legs.

This was the first thing that had worked smoothly all evening, the first thing where he and Yami were totally working at the same pace, and for the same objective. There was no argument now, no questioning each other. There were no moments when one of them wanted one thing, and the other wanted something else. Seto knew what he wanted. He wanted his mouth against Yami's, and his bare skin against his. He wanted to touch him in places he'd never touched someone before. And Yami wanted all that too, didn't he? He wanted this completely, just like Seto did.

Now the only clothes left between them, were Seto's pants, and they were only there because he hadn't gotten to them to take them off yet. When he felt Yami's hands tugging at his belt, he put his own hands there too. Even though two pairs of hands made it harder, not easier to undo a belt, he didn't slap Yami's hands away, just kind of smiled, and even stroked one of his hands a little (which felt good but weird). Anyway, they got the belt undone finally, and the pants as well. Then Seto slid the pants off and dropped them to the floor as well. Now both their bodies were all the way down. He could feel Yami's warm flesh under him ...He could feel Yami's hardness pressed against his stomach; he could feel his own, sliding between Yami's legs.

Yami kept whispering his name, and the impulse went through him to whisper Yami's in response. That felt strange though. It felt unnatural, like he was breaking some kind of important silence. Instead, he found Yami's mouth again and kissed him, hard, deep, keeping both of them silent.

This was all perfectly new to Seto, and all perfectly exciting, the kissing and the cuddling, just as much as what was going to come next. - Did he really understand what was going to come next? He knew about the mechanics sure, and he'd seen some pictures, but no, as far as really having any sense at all of what was coming up went, he didn't have a clue. Maybe that's why he was getting so much enjoyment out of the stuff that led up to it. He could probably have been perfectly happy just with the lead-up stuff, actually. He liked kissing Yami. He liked having the freedom to touch him all over. He especially liked the way it felt to hold onto his ass, so their bodies pressed close together, and he could feel his own hardness rubbing Yami's body, while Yami's hardness rubbed against him.

He and Yami were still belly-to-belly, just keeping their bodies far enough apart that they could touch each other. And Yami wasn't angling his head backward to kiss him any more (which was kind of a relief, because he'd had to angle his own head a lot, the other way, to keep their mouths together), now his mouth was against his throat, his neck, and his chest. Seto, for his part, buried his face in Yami's hair. He hugged him tight with his free arm, and buried his face, breathing Yami's scent, that was partly normal Domino City schoolboy, partly something a little spicier, a little bit exotic. He let himself get lost in the feel of what was happening, the way his hand naturally mimicked what Yuugi's was doing, so that it felt like it was his own touches that were making him feel so excited, the way Yami's mouth against his chest added to the feeling.

They _were_ going to fuck; the thought came into his head as an inevitability.

Once he thought about fucking Yami, the idea wouldn't leave his head. It was an exciting idea, and it gave the prospect of pleasure like he had never felt before. He didn't want to give it up. But there was the problem of logistics. What was involved with fucking someone ...with fucking another man? It wasn't easy, right? And didn't it hurt if you didn't do it right? From what he'd heard, if it hurt for someone, it would be for Yami, not him. And don't ask why he should care all of a sudden about whether or not something hurt his longtime rival, a guy who'd been pissing him off ever since he'd met him, but he did care.

"I want to fuck you, Yami," Seto murmured.

"I suppose you've been fucked before?" he said. "You know what it feels like?" No, it wasn't an endearment, or a declaration that he didn't want to hurt Yami, he wanted it to be good for both of them. But in a way it was ...it was the kind of declaration that a person makes when they can't stand admitting that they're every anything but totally right, and totally in control. "I haven't got any lube," Seto said.

* * *

><p>Seto's brusque talking about fucking wasn't endearing, but it was exciting. Yami had never used a crude word in his life before, let alone a sexual one, let alone using one in a situation like this. It sent shivers down his spine, the realization that dirty words were almost like music to his ears, and spoken with the confidence like only Seto Kaiba could muster... and Yami was slightly embarrassed for a moment, not about hearing how Seto was going to fuck him - and Gods, he wanted that to happen! - but if he claimed to have... ah, been fucked before, Seto would immediately notice, because it simply wasn't the truth. He had never been or done any fucking, and it would be completely embarrassing if he told Seto that no, he didn't have any experience? Maybe the CEO would throw him off of the sofa after all, laughing at him. But Yami had never told a lie before. And besides, he knew that if he didn't tell the truth now either, it was going to cause much more embarrassment.<p>

He nuzzled Seto closer, but didn't look him in the eyes when he finally answered. "I haven't," he said, mumbling against Seto's skin. Loud enough for the other to hear, but soft enough to not shout it through the office. "I don't know how it feels yet," Yami continued, waiting for Seto to throw him off of the couch, or mock him for his inexperience. As if he wanted to prevent it, he tightened his grip on him. "But I want you," he almost pleaded, "I want to feel you inside me. Is there anything else here that you can use? A little lotion? What do you want me to do, I'll do anything..."


End file.
